The nanny arrived the following morning after breakfast, a stern woman at least thirty years Maria's senior with graying hair and a no-nonsense disposition that the children disliked immediately. Maria urged them to give her a chance, but she found herself frowning in displeasure when the nanny actually reprimanded her for encouraging the children to play a game of tag outside to run out some of their energy. She tried to reason with the other woman, but the nanny spoke no German, and Maria's arguments lost much of their power when Louisa translated them. A deep chuckle alerted Maria to Georg's presence, and she turned to see him watching with a sly grin on his face. He said something to to the nanny in English, and the woman's frown relaxed. She nodded approvingly, and he quickly shooed the children away. Somewhat surprisingly, they all went willingly. Maria looked to Georg in confusion as he hooked an arm through hers, leading her outside as well. She had been trying unsuccessfully to reason with the nanny for nearly twenty minutes, and he seemed to have reached a compromise in twenty seconds. "I suggested that perhaps they should march about the grounds breathing deeply," Georg said in response to her confusion, a tinge of laughter in his voice. "I assumed an activity such as that would meet with her approval, and it seems I was right."
"I cannot see your children enjoying that."
There was a twinkle in his eye as he turned to her. "Oh, they have their own sort of marching. Before you came, it was an activity which I encouraged them to do quite often, for I felt it would be good for them. It took me a few weeks to realize their ready acceptance of it was because it took them where neither their governess nor I could readily supervise them, allowing them to. . . be children. By the time I finally realized what was happening, well, I did not have the heart to stop them." Maria smiled at his admission. She glanced over to where the children were running across a large expanse of grass, laughing happily. "Care for a walk?" he questioned. "There is a path around the field where they are playing. We should be able to see them the whole time but still have a bit of privacy."
"That sounds lovely."
"I must agree," a new voice added, and both turned to see Henry behind them, a wide grin on his face.
Georg sighed irritably. "The invitation did not extend to you."
"Do you really think I will let you go off on a walk with your betrothed unchaperoned? What would Mother say?" he questioned, a mock scandalized expression on his face. Georg muttered something under his breath about exactly what he thought of his mother-in-law's opinion. Maria squeezed his arm in gentle rebuke, and he sighed.
"It's not as if I can stop you."
They walked for nearly an hour, speaking mostly about the children though Henry continued to ask personal questions of Maria, some of which made her vaguely uncomfortable. Other than that, however, he proved to be a pleasant companion, quick to make a joke or laugh, even if it was at his own expense. Unlike his mother, he also did not seem to care about Maria's humble origins or the fact that she was Georg's governess—except as a chance to tease Georg about the latter. As they rounded the last corner, approaching the house once more, Henry raised an eyebrow when he saw a new car in the drive. "Well, she is certainly here early. I wonder why."
"Who?" Georg asked, following his gaze.
"The Lady Helen. She and Nicholas have been spending quite a bit of time together lately. I expect they will be announcing an official courtship soon. Mother is ecstatic, of course. Her father is a duke."
"I did not expect Nicholas to settle down."
"Oh, it was inevitable. You know Mother. She always gets her way."
"Including with you?"
Henry smirked. "I am a second son. Fortunately, that means she mostly leaves me alone. It is not as if she needs me to give her grandchildren—you accomplished that quite nicely." He chuckled as Georg rolled his eyes, but Friedrich interrupted their conversation before they could talk further.
"Father, Uncle Henry, Fraulein Maria, we found a football!" he exclaimed in excitement. "Can you play?"
Georg turned to Maria. "Maria?" he questioned.
"Won't the teams be uneven?"
"Not if Uncle Henry plays," Friedrich said, glancing at his uncle earnestly.
"In order to see the great Georg von Trapp and his lovely fiancee play a game of football? Count me in." Friedrich cheered, and the three adults followed him back to the field where the children had already sorted themselves into teams.
Some time later, they all returned to the house, sweaty and grass stained but with the thrill of the game still lingering in the air. Friedrich had found a fellow football lover in Henry, and the two were eagerly discussing the prospects for various professional teams that year. A clearing throat stopped the debate, and they all looked up to see Lady Whitehead watching them with distaste. She said something in English which immediately caused the children's excitement to dim.
"We are only twenty minutes late," Georg answered in German.
Lady Whitehead pursed her lips, obviously disliking the switch in language, but she followed Georg's example and remarked, "We have a strict timetable we must observe in this household. Otherwise, the staff would not know what to expect."
"We are sorry, Lady Whitehead," Maria said earnestly. "I am afraid that time simply slipped away from us. We can clean up quickly so we do not delay you further."
"I have already eaten, and John and Nicholas are out for the day. When you did not arrive on time, I assumed you would not be joining me, so I sent the food back to the kitchen."
Maria heard groans from the children, especially Kurt. Georg, however, simply remarked calmly. "In that case, I suppose we will have to find our lunch elsewhere. I have been meaning to take the children into the village anyway, and I am sure we can find something there. Henry, would you like to join us? My treat." He glanced over at Henry who grinned widely.
"How can I refuse if it's on your dime?" Henry asked.
Georg smiled at his eager children. "Go get cleaned up, and we will leave when you are ready," he told them. They started for the steps, Maria following, but Lady Whitehead stopped them. "John and Nicholas have the cars, so I am afraid there is no transportation at the moment."
Georg's eyebrows rose. "I suppose we will walk then." With that, he ushered them all upstairs.
The village was fortunately close, and the walk was pleasant. Georg walked beside Maria with Gretl in his arms, letting the other children run ahead. Henry walked a short ways in front of the couple, hands in his pockets, whistling. After a minute of walking, Maria felt something brush against the back of her hand, and she looked over to see Georg giving her a small smile. When he brushed her hand the second time, she turned it so they could clasp their fingers together. Maria swallowed. Though the touch was certainly not intimate, it still sent a shiver of desire down her spine. For some reason, she could not stop focusing on the feel of his hand in hers, remembering how it felt on other parts of her body.
Marta tired about halfway through the walk, and Georg dropped Maria's hand to lift her to his shoulders, passing Gretl to Maria. Maria felt the loss of contact acutely. She looked over at Georg, and she noted that his eyes were dark, setting her heart beating wildly. They held one another's gaze until Henry's voice broke the trance. He said something in English which caused Georg's eyes to widen, turning to his brother-in-law to rebuke him sharply. Liesl's ears had reddened, and Friedrich and Louisa looked confused and a bit apprehensive. "Why would Papa be taking your clothes off with his eyes, Fraulein Maria?" Brigitta questioned. Maria blushed furiously, and she turned to Georg who growled at Henry.
"Uncle Henry was just being ridiculous," he said firmly. "Would you like to eat here?"
They had a pleasant lunch, followed by a relatively quiet afternoon. The nanny informed Maria that Lady Whitehead had requested the children's presence at tea, so Maria ensured they were all ready at the appointed time. They found both Lord and Lady Whitehead as well as Thomas, Nicholas, and a woman Maria had never met waiting for them. Surprisingly, Georg was not present.
"Is Georg not with you?" Lady Whitehead asked, her tone accusing.
"No, I have not seen him for about an hour," Maria said, frowning. It was not like Georg to be late.
"Perhaps you should go see what is keeping your. . . fiance." Lady Whitehead said the final word with distaste. Maria chose to ignore the slight, instead nodding and excusing herself from the room. She made her way to the guest wing, realizing belatedly that there were half a dozen doors and she did not know which was Georg's. She had just resolved to knock on each of them when a door at the end of the hallway opened and a woman stepped out, her hair mussed and the top two buttons of her blouse undone. She looked over at Maria, and she seemed to hesitate for a moment before her expression hardened, and she looked back to the door where Maria's fiance stood, his own expression stormy. She said something in a loud whisper, obviously intending for Maria to overhear, but since the words were in English, Maria was not quite sure what they were. Georg's head whipped around, the color draining from his face when he saw Maria standing there.
"Maria, Darling, this is not what it looks like," he whispered fiercely. Maria felt her own emotions bubbling to the surface, a feeling of sadness and betrayal that threatened to overwhelm her, but she forced herself to remain calm. Something seemed off about the situation, and she wanted to know what it was before she made a judgment. She needed to know. She looked between the two figures again, letting her gaze linger as she assessed their appearance. The woman certainly looked like someone fresh from an intimate liaison, her cheeks rosy, her breath coming in gasps, and her clothes disheveled. But though Georg was also not fully dressed, his appearance simply did not seem consistent with someone who had just been locked in a passionate embrace with another. Maria studied him critically. He was missing his coat, tie, and shoes, but his shirt was buttoned up fully and tucked neatly into his slacks. In fact, it did not seem wrinkled at all, and Maria had noted that was one of the first things to happen when they lost themselves in one another. His missing coat and tie could simply mean that he had not had time to dress fully. In fact, the more she thought about it, the more that seemed the more likely explanation. Something else was bothering her as well, something she could not quite put her finger on. She raked her eyes over Georg once more before it hit her. His expression was wrong. A myriad of emotions had played across his face in the short time since she had seen him at the door, but one she had not seen a trace of was desire. That told her everything she needed to know.
Meeting his eyes, she nodded, and he relaxed fully before speaking sternly to the maid. The other woman cast one last look at Maria before scurrying away. Something still seemed wrong about the circumstances, but Maria did not have time to dwell on it before he had stepped to her side. "Maria, love-" he began, but she stopped him with a finger to his lips.
"I know," she said simply. He pressed a kiss to her finger.
"I love you," he told her.
"And I love you." He leaned forward, kissing her firmly. He spanned his hands across her hips, pulling her to him before beginning to walk backwards towards his room. Once they were through the doorway, he pushed it shut before pulling his lips from hers.
"I am truly sorry for the events of this afternoon," he said. "I did not intend to hurt you. I heard a knock while I was preparing for tea and assumed it was you or one of the children, but when I told the person to enter, it turned out to be someone else entirely. I tried to tell her I did not need anything, but she was. . . persistent. It seems that perhaps I need to come up with a strategy other than ignoring them after all."
"Had she made other advances?"
He shook his head. "No, that was the oddest thing. I do not believe I've ever even seen her before tonight." He considered for a moment before shrugging. "What made you realize that things were not quite what they seemed?"
"You." His brow furrowed. "Your appearance. You were too. . . put together, not anything like when we are kissing. You did not look like a man who had been. . ."
"Ravished?" he suggested, smirking slightly. She nodded. "Have I commended your powers of observation lately, my love?" he questioned, leaning forward.
"Georg, they are expecting us downstairs."
"Right now, I do not particularly care." With that, he pushed his lips to hers. She opened her mouth to him immediately, sinking into the feeling of his kiss. Her hands reached up, gripping his shirt tightly as he plundered her mouth with his tongue. One of his hands gripped her butt as his other tangled in her hair. She was sure he was making a mess of it, but she could not find it in herself to care. Her hands moved inwards, fumbling with the buttons of his shirt before beginning to slip them from their holes. As she revealed the skin of his upper chest, she tore her lips from his to begin to plant open-mouthed kisses there, driven by a primal urge she did not quite understand. He groaned in appreciation, his own hands moving down her back until they lifted her skirts. His skilled fingers quickly found their way to her underclothes, pressing firmly. She gasped against his neck.
"Georg," she moaned.
"I need you rather desperately," he admitted, thrusting his hips against hers while he pulled her underclothes down her legs.
"Now?"
"Good God yes." With that, he reached down, unzipping his slacks and pushing them down to his mid-thigh. It did not take long for them to lose themselves in each other, both reaching the precipice quite quickly. As Georg came down from his high, he fell forward, his hand slapping against the wall as he caught himself. They stood like that for a few moments, both catching their breaths, before he finally looked up, meeting her eyes with an almost sheepish smile. She stared at him a moment, his shirt half undone, his hair mussed, and his slacks slipping down his legs. Without warning, a giggle bubbled up, escaping her lips. He cocked his head in confusion.
"I'm sorry. It's just that you look rather ravished now."
He chuckled as well, leaning forward to kiss her soundly. "Only by you, my love," he promised. He straightened, pushing himself off the wall. "We should clean up before we go downstairs," he told her. She nodded, and they quickly cleaned themselves up as best as they could before leaving the room together. Georg wrapped an arm around her waist as they walked, seeming to want to keep the intimacy they had shared alive as long as possible. Maria leaned into him, feeling the same desire. He paused at the top of the steps, squeezing her hip to keep her with him as he pressed a kiss into her hair. "Thank you," he told her sincerely, "for helping to give me pleasant memories of this house."
"You didn't have any before?"
He shook his head against her hair. "Agathe was always terribly nervous when we came here. As you can probably tell, her mother is quite critical, and she worried constantly that she would do something to garner Elizabeth's disapproval. I tried to support her, knowing how important it was, but I am not naturally one to let others demean me or those I care about without saying something. We fought quite a lot about that. And we certainly never did anything like what just happened while we were here."
His admission prompted Maria to make one of her own. "I was quite nervous about coming here, afraid that it might bring up too many memories that would cause you to regret moving forward with me."
"I could never regret that." He let out a long breath. "Thanks to you, I have made peace with my memories. Agathe will always be a part of me, but I can think back on my time with her with fondness instead of sadness. I know she would want that, that she would want me to move on, to love again. She was that type of person." He kissed her, lingering a bit before laughter from the floor below reminded them of where they were. He pressed a quick kiss to her forehead before leading her downstairs, his arm still wrapped firmly around her. As they neared the drawing room, she started to pull away from him, but he simply squeezed her more tightly. They entered together, and all eyes immediately moved to them.
"What could have possibly kept you so long?" Lady Whitehead asked bitingly, surprisingly speaking German. "I sent Maria up nearly half an hour ago to find you."
"I'm afraid it is my fault, Lady Whitehead," Georg apologized. "I had completely lost track of time and was not appropriately dressed for tea when Maria found me. She graciously agreed to wait for me."
"I see." Lady Whitehead stepped closer to them, her frown deepening as her eyes dropped to Georg's arm around Maria's waist. She swept her gaze critically over the pair. "What is that on your neck?"
Georg was fortunately able to think quite well on his feet. "It must be a bit of left over mud from our football game this afternoon. In my quick preparations, I suppose I missed it."
"Football?" The unknown woman entered the conversation abruptly, saving them from further embarrassment. "You play football?" Her German was a bit choppy, but Maria could still understand it.
"Just for fun with my children," Georg said. "I do not believe we have met, Lady. . ."
"Helen." She held out a hand, and Georg kissed it politely. She said something in English, and Georg glanced apologetically at Maria before responding in that language.
"She's just apologizing that she cannot speak better German," Liesl said, appearing beside Maria. Glancing over, Maria saw that Friedrich, Louisa, and Brigitta were standing there as well. A quick sweep of the room revealed Kurt unsurprisingly by the food and Marta and Gretl giggling with Henry who had proven to be a favorite of the younger children at lunch.
"Now she's complimenting Father's English, said she can barely detect an accent," Friedrich added.
"Of course she can't, he speaks better English than Grandmother," Louisa remarked from beside him. Georg's eyes flitted sideways to glance at his children, and Maria saw a flicker of amusement in them.
"Now she's asking if he knows other languages," Liesl said. She gave a sigh. "Here it comes."
"Here what comes?"
"That," Friedrich explained, nodding to Lady Helen who had gasped, pressing a hand to her mouth.
"They always react like that when Father tells them how many languages he speaks," Louisa said.
"Or what medals he has," Brigitta added. Georg looked over at his children again, warning in his eyes this time. However, he did not try to stop them, continuing his conversation with Lady Helen as if they were doing nothing more than translating for Maria.
"How many languages does he speak?" Maria questioned, surprised that she had never thought to ask.
"Six," Liesl answered.
Friedrich frowned. "I count seven. German, English, Czech, Hungarian, French, Italian, Croatian."
"You forgot Russian," Louisa told her brother.
"I don't think he's fluent," Friedrich argued.
"I've seen him read a book in Russian," Brigitta remarked.
"That doesn't necessarily mean he's fluent. I've seen him read plenty of Spanish books, and he's definitely not fluent in that."
"He's conversational in Spanish."
Friedrich scoffed. "If we're counting languages he's conversational in, we'll be here all night."
"My Russian is much better than my Spanish, but I would not call myself fluent in either," Georg cut in suddenly. "Not that I have had much occasion to use them."
"So I was right. It's seven then," Friedrich said triumphantly.
"Eight," Brigitta said suddenly. Georg turned to his younger daughter, a small smile on his face. "We forgot Greek," she told her siblings.
"How in the world did you learn eight languages?" Maria asked, looking at Georg in awe.
"Fraulein Maria has the same look as all the other women," Friedrich remarked, eyebrows raised.
"Do you want to hear about his medals, Fraulein?" Liesl's voice was teasing. Georg gave his oldest daughter a mock glare.
"Most I learned during my childhood or in the war," Georg said simply. A comment from Lady Helen drew their attention back to her. Nicholas had joined her, frowning as she spoke quickly, gesturing at Georg. Georg pulled Maria a bit closer as he responded.
"Uh-oh," Friedrich remarked. "She's telling Uncle Nicholas about how many languages Father speaks."
"He doesn't look too happy about that," Louisa observed.
"Probably because he cannot even speak two very well—his German is worse than Marta's."
"Louisa, that's not very nice," Maria admonished. "He has been most accommodating to speak German while I am here."
"It may not be nice but it's true."
"He probably speaks French. Mother did, and I know it's considered necessary among her and Father's peers," Liesl mused.
"If his French is anything like his German, I wouldn't count it," Louisa muttered.
"Father is changing the subject now," Liesl said. "He's started talking about us. That means that he's uncomfortable with the attention he's getting." Georg looked over at her sharply, but she simply smiled innocently. "Hearing about seven children is enough to drive even the most persistent women away—except for you of course, Fraulein."
"Okay, that's enough, children," Georg said, switching not to German but to Czech. Maria was confused for a moment before glancing over to see Lady Helen and Nicholas watching them closely. "If you are not careful, you are liable to scare Maria away, and I would be devastated if that happened." He winked at her, and she smiled broadly at him.
"Oh, you will need a lot more than seven children, a head full of languages, and a chest full of medals for that," Maria responded in the same language. She had told Georg early on in her employment that her mother and uncle were Czech and had spoken the language enough at home that Maria had become relatively fluent. He had been pleasantly surprised by her admission, asking her to continue to teach the children, most of whom had already picked up some of the language from him.
"Nevertheless, if you would like to translate what is said, that is fine, but please leave the side comments for a different time." After that, the children did limit their German to simple translations, but they continued to add comments, this time in Czech. Though Maria was sure Georg heard them, he did not rebuke them for their somewhat colorful remarks. She wondered about that for a bit before realizing that his use of Czech had been about more than just keeping Nicholas and Helen from hearing his own remarks.
The other three children soon joined them, Marta immediately moving to her father's side while Gretl held out her arms to Maria. Maria picked the toddler up automatically, noting Georg did the same with Marta, eliciting a comment from Lady Helen that needed no translation. After another minute or so, Lady Helen turned her attention to Maria, asking something in English. Liesl actually responded as Louisa translated. "She's asking what hidden talents you have," Louisa said. "Liesl is telling her about your singing and how you play the guitar."
"Oh, Liesl, there is no need to mention that. I am not that talented."
"You don't give yourself enough credit, Maria," Georg remarked in Czech.
"Apparently she is a singer, too," Louisa translated. "She's asking where you trained."
Maria blushed. "Nowhere. Singing is just something I picked up."
"And yet somehow you sing more beautifully than anyone I've ever heard," Georg added softly.
"Surely not."
"I'm serious, Maria," he assured her.
Fortunately, they only needed to make small talk for a few more minutes before Lady Whitehead announced an end to tea. The nanny came to collect the children, and Maria and Georg spent a few minutes saying goodnight to them before she ushered them away to prepare for their dinner. "We should go prepare as well," Georg told Maria once the children were gone. Maria turned to him in confusion, for there were still at least two hours until the adults' dinner. Georg sighed. "Knowing Lady Whitehead, today's dinner will be large and very, very formal. You should wear the dress you wore to the opera as well as the gloves that should have been in the box with it; we'll have to see about finding you something else tomorrow since wearing the same dress two nights in a row will be seen as the gravest insult." At Maria's shocked face, he added, "I wish I was kidding. You will probably want someone to help you get ready as well; I will call down and see if the housekeeper knows of anyone who can act as a lady's maid for the next few days."
"That certainly isn't necessary. Liesl and Louisa can help me."
Georg shook his head. "Not only do they have their own dinner to attend while you are getting ready, but they do not have enough experience with this sort of event. Even Agathe sometimes struggled, and she grew up in this household."
"Okay," Maria agreed, trusting his wisdom. "I suppose I will see you at dinner then."
"We meet in the drawing room before dinner and then we will all go in together." Maria nodded, her head swimming with the new information. She wondered if she could ever get used to such formality. She felt a wave of sympathy for his first wife who had to grow up with it. He pressed a quick kiss to her lips. "You will do fine," he assured her. "I have yet to see anyone who you are unable to charm." She did not quite have his confidence but nodded nevertheless, going to her room to prepare.
True to his promise, Georg found a young woman to help Maria prepare for dinner. She arrived just as Maria returned from her bath and quickly set about dressing Maria. The woman spoke no German but did know some rudimentary French, a language Maria also had a bit of familiarity with from school. Though both were far from fluent, they managed to get by with what they knew supplemented with hand gestures. By the time the woman was finished, Maria barely recognized the woman in the mirror, but she did think that woman was one who could attend Lady Whitehead's very formal dinner without embarrassment. Thanking the maid profusely, Maria stepped out of the room, making her way cautiously down the stairs, careful not trip on her heels.
She found the drawing room more crowded than she had expected. Nearly a dozen people milled around the room, talking in groups of three or four. Maria's eyes immediately sought out her fiance, and she relaxed when she saw him across the room, speaking with Henry and two women Maria had not met. She moved to his side immediately, and he gave her a small smile as she joined him. For once, he did not reach out to touch her as she neared him, and she followed his lead, contenting herself with standing near him instead. "Maria, this is Lady Rebekah and Lady Barbara," he introduced before speaking to the women in English, presumably introducing Maria.
"Hello. A pleasure to meet you," Maria said in English, pronouncing the words carefully. The two women stared at Maria for a moment before nodding once and turning back to Georg. Their conversation after that was stilted at best, for Georg had to stop often to translate. Eventually, Henry took pity on him, translating instead since most of the questions they asked were directed at Georg. Maria was not sure if it was Henry's translations of her lack of knowledge of high society, but she did not follow the conversation much better in German and eventually told Henry he did not need to worry about translating it. Instead, she smiled politely, trying to look interested.
A butler eventually announced dinner, and Georg offered his arm to Maria who took it gratefully. "I am sorry that you have to endure this," he remarked as they walked together into the dining room. "I know you are not accustomed to this level of formality and the language barrier is making it more difficult."
"I don't mind," Maria assured him. "Yes, it is challenging, but I have always enjoyed a challenge."
"A commendable attitude." He leaned closer, whispering in her ear. "Have I told you yet how absolutely stunning you look tonight?" he asked. Maria blushed, dropping her eyes to the floor.
"You look quite dashing yourself," she told him. And indeed he did. He was in a full tuxedo and had even included the Maria Theresa cross around his neck though Maria doubted anyone present knew what it meant other than her. Still, it thrilled her to see. They entered the dining room, and he glanced around. Lady Whitehead said something in English, and Maria watched Georg bite back a negative response before turning to her.
"You're next to Henry. I will be across the table from you," he explained.
Maria was not at all pleased with that seating arrangement, but she smiled nevertheless. "Well, at least I have someone near me who speaks German," she remarked. He led her to her assigned seat before rounding the table to stand behind his chair. Henry pulled out her chair for her before they all sat, and he quickly engaged her in an easy conversation. Maria felt herself relaxing somewhat, enjoying the ability to talk to someone in her native language. She continued to glance across the table, noting that one of the women she had met earlier—Lady Rebekah, if she remembered correctly—sat on Georg's left and seemed to be dominating his attention. Maria was not sure if she liked the way the woman continued to lean toward him, even going so far as to touch him from time to time.
"Ah, it is interesting to see that some things have not changed," Henry remarked from beside her, following her gaze.
"What do you mean?"
He nodded to Georg and Lady Rebekah. "Rebekah was Agathe's best friend, but she's a terrible flirt. When Agathe came home with a handsome, rich naval captain, well, it almost seemed like Rebekah could not help herself. Agathe hated it, but she loved her best friend, so she tolerated it. Georg hated it, too, maybe even more than Agathe, but he tolerated it for her sake. Seems like he still hates it, actually."
Maria looked, noting that Georg did indeed have a frown on his face. "Surely they could just ask her to stop if it made them both uncomfortable," Maria remarked.
"Oh, I am sure they did, but women like Rebekah. . . well, I am not even sure if she realizes what she is doing all the time. It is just second nature to her now. She has failed to consider one thing though."
"What?"
"You are not Agathe which means Georg no longer has anyone restraining him." Henry grinned. "I predict this night will be quite interesting."
Halfway through the dinner, Lady Whitehead suddenly lifted her wineglass in the air, saying something in English. "A toast to you and Georg, celebrating your engagement," Henry said, his eyes narrowed in confusion as he watched his mother. "I am not quite sure what she is up to, honestly. But I suppose a toast is harmless enough. Cheers." He clinked his glass to Maria's, raising it to his lips. She hesitated for a moment, catching Georg's eye across the table. He frowned but nodded, and she knew him well enough to realize he was telling her she needed to take a sip or risk offending their host. Carefully, Maria placed her lips against the rim of the glass, opening them enough to let a small amount of the liquid into her mouth. Maria had had wine before at Communion, so she knew she had not consumed enough to leave her anywhere near inebriated, but imbibing still felt wrong. Maria had promised herself long before that he would not touch alcohol outside of Communion, for she had seen what alcohol had done to her uncle. Of course, that promise was easier to keep when she was planning to be a nun.
Dinner included five more toasts, forcing Maria to consume nearly three-quarters of the glass of wine despite her attempts to keep her sips small. She did not feel any different, but she knew that feelings could be deceptive when it came to alcohol. She did know the alcohol certainly was not helping her suppress the jealousy she felt flare up every time Rebekah "accidentally" brushed against Georg. When the servants cleared the final plate, Maria breathed a sigh of relief. She knew the night was far from over, but at least she would be able to spend the rest of it at Georg's side.
Her relief was short lived, for Lord Whitehead led the men in one direction, leaving Lady Whitehead to take the women in the other. Maria followed the women into a room in which she had not been which turned out to be a large ballroom. The splendor of the room amazed her, and gazing at it in wonder at least gave her something to do for a few minutes while the rest of the women split off into groups to talk in a language Maria did not understand. She suspected at least one of the groups was probably talking about her as well, but she simply could not bring herself to care. A waiter arrived with a tray of wine glasses; Maria started to refuse him, but she could feel Lady Whitehead's eyes boring into her across the room, so she instead accepted a glass with thanks. Then, glancing over to see Lady Whitehead was still watching carefully, she took a small sip, wondering how long she could nurse the single glass.
At long last, the door opened and the men entered, led, somewhat surprisingly, by Georg. He found her immediately, crossing to her side. He frowned when he saw the glass in her hand, a glass that was already half-empty. "I did not know what else to do," Maria admitted. "I was just trying to appease her."
Georg did not need to ask who she meant. He caught the attention of a nearby waiter, whispering something to him in English. A couple minutes later, the man returned with a glass of a clear liquid which Georg quickly exchanged for the wine. "Water," he told her.
"Thank you," she said sincerely.
A new voice suddenly joined them. Maria looked up to see two men around Georg's age and a woman a year or two Maria's junior. Georg quickly introduced Maria before turning to Maria. "Maria, this is Lord and Lady Willington." The latter said something, and Georg amended, "Robert and Evelyn, I suppose." Maria greeted them politely. "And this is Thomas, an old friend." He gestured to the second man. Maria's eyes widened, recognizing the name.
"The Thomas?" she questioned. Georg nodded.
"Am I special for some reason?" Thomas questioned in excellent German, looking to Georg. Maria colored, not having realized he spoke such fluent German.
"Maria just found an old recommendation of yours," Georg remarked.
"A recommendation-oh!" Understanding flashed in his eyes. "She found the book recommendations. How in the world did she do that?"
Georg scowled at him. "I had forgotten about your additions when I handed the list for her to find some books for me."
Thomas howled with laughter. "You asked your convent-sprung fiancee to find. . . Georg, you certainly never fail to entertain." He continued to laugh loudly, ignoring Lady Whitehead's look of disapproval. Maria's blush deepened, and she looked at the floor, feeling more out of place than ever. Georg seemed to realize she was uncomfortable, for she felt his hand reach out to grab hers, squeezing gently. Maria glanced up at him, letting herself get lost in his steady gaze. She vaguely heard Thomas saying something in English to Robert and Evelyn, presumably explaining why he was laughing, but she pushed thoughts of that to the back of her mind, focusing instead on Georg.
Eventually, a comment from Robert pulled Georg's attention away from her, and he turned back to respond though he did not drop her hand. They began a conversation in rapid English, and Maria did not even try to follow it. She wished she still had the children to translate or to entertain her with their colorful commentary. She was much more comfortable with them than she ever would be with the members of high society currently surrounding her. That thought gave her pause, for she doubted a change in language would help much with her comfort level. She wondered what she was even thinking, agreeing to marry Georg, a man so far above her station it was laughable. Maria was sure she would have to attend many more events such as the current one in the future if she married him, and she dreaded the thought.
The room suddenly began to feel much too warm. Maria was not sure if it was the wine or the thoughts running through her head or some combination, but she needed to leave immediately. She started to pull away from Georg, and he turned from his conversation to look at her. "I just need some air," she explained. He studied her face for a moment, concern lining his own. After a minute or two, he nodded, dropping her hand.
"There's a balcony over there," he informed her, pointing to a door a few meters away. Maria thanked him before walking quickly to the door, stepping outside and breathing deeply.
The heat of the day had fortunately broken, and the night was pleasantly cool without being too cold on Maria's bare arms and legs. She stepped to the railing of the balcony, leaning over as she contemplated her future. She had not been standing there long when she heard the door open behind her. Turning, she saw Georg's familiar figure stepping out onto the balcony as well. He did not say anything to her, instead stepping to her side and leaning over the railing, letting his gaze wander over the grounds. For the first time that night, Maria felt herself relaxing, and she realized that it was because she finally felt comfortable. She did not have to wonder why either. Georg's mere presence seemed to make everything better. Maria loved him with all of her heart, and she could not fathom life without him. Maria knew then that it did not matter how many events such as the current one she had to attend—if it was what she needed to do in order to stay by his side, she would attend them.
They were silent for a few minutes before he finally spoke. "I always felt out of place here as well," he admitted. Maria turned to him, canting her head in question. "I am not one for fancy galas or elaborate dinners," he explained. "I prefer things to be simpler."
"I do as well."
"We can make our excuses any time you want," he told her. "Or just hide here together for awhile."
Maria took a deep breath. "No, we should go back in. I refuse to give Lady Whitehead the satisfaction of knowing she was able to chase me away."
Georg grinned at her. "I do not think she was expecting such a formidable opponent."
Maria sighed. "I do not want to be her opponent," she told him. "I never wanted to do battle with your mother-in-law. I am not trying to replace your first wife. Why can she not just accept our relationship?"
"It is not in her nature. I know you work hard to get along with everyone you meet, but in certain cases, I am not sure it is worth it."
Maria considered his words for a moment. "Well, that does not mean we should not keep trying." She straightened, reaching inside herself to find her confidence. He watched her for a moment, a small smile playing on his lips.
"You are truly one of a kind, Maria." He grabbed her hand before she could move back to the ballroom, pulling her flush against his body as he kissed her passionately. Eventually, she pulled away.
"Anyone could walk out," she reminded him.
"Let them," he whispered before capturing her lips again. They kissed languidly for a few minutes before he finally broke his lips from hers, holding her tightly in his arms as he regulated his breathing. "Are you ready to face them again?" he asked once he had finally caught his breath.
"I am." He nodded, wrapping an arm around her shoulders as he guided her back into the house. "Georg?" she questioned, starting to move away, but he simply pulled her closer.
"I refuse to allow some ridiculous notion of propriety from my mother-in-law to stop me from touching you a moment longer."
"If someone sees us come in from the balcony together. . ."
"Then I am sure they will surmise exactly what we were doing." He had a dangerous glint in his eyes as he looked at her, and it sent a shiver down her spine. They stepped in together; as Maria had predicted, many sets of eyes turned in their direction. She felt herself start to redden, but she forced back her blush, straightening her back and holding her head high. "Good girl," Georg purred from beside her. She glanced over to see him surveying the room almost lazily, challenge in his gaze. No one dared meet the challenge, not even Lady Whitehead whose expression was murderous as she turned back to her conversation. Despite her lack of understanding of high society, Maria realized some lines had just been drawn. She suspected she had also just lost any chance of winning over Lady Whitehead, but with the steely strength of Georg's arm around her and the scent of him surrounding her, Maria could not bring herself to care.
Henry was the first to join them, shaking his head slightly at the couple. "Never a dull moment with you, Georg," he remarked, turning to Maria before Georg could respond. "Maria, my dear, Lady Helen has requested your presence."
Maria startled. "My presence?"
"Yes. She mentioned something about singing?" He nodded over to one corner of the room where a servant was removing the cover from a beautiful grand piano. Lady Helen stood nearby with Nicholas, watching carefully.
"Oh, I couldn't!"
"And why ever not?" Henry asked. "I for one would love to hear you sing. Lady Helen said the children were most complimentary of your voice." Maria turned to Georg.
"It is up to you, Maria," he told her. "You know I always enjoy hearing you sing."
"Oh alright," Maria sighed. "I suppose I could sing one song."
"Excellent," Henry told her, leading the way to Lady Helen and Nicholas.
"Ah, Maria," the other woman greeted in German. "Good see you. I could not you find earlier."
Maria forced back her blush. "I just stepped out for a bit of air." Nicholas looked at Georg searchingly, but Georg kept his face impassive.
"I told Maria about singing, and she agreed to one song," Henry explained.
"Okay. We just need find someone for the piano," Nicholas looked at his brother expectantly. Henry shook his head, holding up his hands, saying something in English. A protest, Maria guessed based on his expression.
"Georg can play," Maria suggested. She sensed his head turning to her, and she looked over to see he was giving her a dark look.
"Agathe mentioned he played, but I've never heard him," Henry said, looking at his brother-in-law.
"You sure? The music I want is. . . difficult," Helen asked Georg.
"Oh, he is very good," Maria assured her. "Better than some professionals, I would venture." Georg was shaking his head, but Maria turned to him with her best pleading expression. "Please?" He looked at her carefully, the debate raging on his face, before he sighed.
"You're dangerous, Maria," he whispered in Czech before releasing her so that he could move to the piano. He adjusted the bench, making himself comfortable before placing his fingers carefully onto the keys. After a few quick scales, he launched into something much more complicated. Maria recognized it as Bach but could not have named the specific piece if asked. Conversations died down around them as most heads turned to watch. Georg seemed oblivious to the attention, lost in the music. When he finally finished, there was a long moment of silence before people began to applaud.
"Agathe always said you were good, but I thought she might be embellishing," Henry remarked. "Now I realize that she was being modest."
"You have really never heard him play?" Maria questioned.
"No one could ever convince him to play here. Not even Agathe." Maria turned to Georg, surprised, and he closed his eyes briefly before nodding.
Henry seemed to realize he had picked a sensitive topic, and for once, he did not press. Instead, he remarked, "Well, I imagine that should clear up the question of whether or not Georg can accompany you, hmm, Helen?" He turned to Helen who was watching Georg with an expression Maria did not much like. She smiled brilliantly, answering in English. Georg's expression remained carefully neutral as she turned to him and asked him something. He nodded, placing his fingers against the keys and waiting for a moment before beginning to play. Maria recognized the tune as one from Falstaff. Helen was quite good, her voice sliding smoothly from one note to the next. By the time she finished, they had amassed quite the audience who clapped politely while she curtseyed. As she stepped away from the piano, she nodded at Maria.
"I do not even know what to follow that with," Maria admitted, mostly to herself, as she moved toward the piano. She swallowed hard. She had never been nervous about singing before, but she also had never sung in front of more than family or close friends.
"Der Holle Roche?" Georg suggested. Maria turned to him, surprised at the suggestion of one of the more notoriously difficult arias. He gave her a smile. "I know you know it. I have heard you singing it." In fact, Maria had sung it quite often, for it was the first opera she had seen—even if it was an amateur performance put on by a school group. She had found herself fascinated by the Queen of the Night, however, and had later obtained the music for her arias, practicing until she felt she sounded similar to the soprano who had performed. Given that Maria had only heard the music performed once—and not even by a famous soprano—she was sure there were mistakes, and she hesitated.
However, she simply could not refuse Georg, so she nodded. He smiled, playing a few notes before she began to sing, the notes coming to her easily. She focused her attention on her fiance who was smiling broadly, obviously delighted with her singing. His obvious enjoyment relaxed her fully, for she did not truly care what anyone else in the room thought of her singing. At the end of the day, his opinion was the one that mattered to her.
When she finally finished, she looked over at Georg who was simply staring at her, his heart in his eyes. She nervously wet her lips, trying desperately to prevent herself from closing the small distance between them and throwing herself into his arms. They were so focused on each other that it took a few moments for the noise behind her to register; when it did, she turned, blinking in surprise as she saw everyone in the room clapping enthusiastically. "Where in the world did you find her, Georg?" Henry asked, awe in his voice. Georg pulled his gaze from hers, turning to his brother-in-law with a single raised eyebrow.
"Nonnberg Abbey, as I believe I've mentioned."
"Maria, surely you must have considered singing professionally. With a voice like yours. . . well, I do not know many professional singers who could compare. And you have not even been trained?"
Maria was flustered with the attention. "Not officially."
"Well, we will just have to fix that. If Georg does not have contacts, I can certainly find some."
"Oh no, Henry! I enjoy singing for myself and the children, but I have no desire to sing for anyone else."
"Surely you realize you cannot keep this lovely young woman and her voice locked up in your country villa, Georg," Henry said, appealing to Georg instead. "Talent like that deserves to be shared."
"Maria is her own person, and I believe she has made her thoughts on the matter perfectly clear," Georg said, his tone deceptively mild. "And there will be no locking up. I have a feeling that would only lead to rebellion." He looked at Maria again, a small smirk on his lips.
Henry looked between them. "I shall have to work on that. In the meantime, surely you will sing more for us tonight, Maria! Your lovely voice was meant for more than one song."
"Oh, I don't know!" She heard Georg begin to play something on the piano, and it took her a moment to recognize a tune she had made up for the children a couple months before, a song she had named "The Lonely Goatherd." She looked over at him, unaware he knew the music for it, and he smiled as he continued playing. As before, she could not resist him, and she gave in, appreciating the lighthearted tune after the rather intense aria though the yodeling was still somewhat demanding technically.
Five songs later, Georg finally declared they were finished for the night, much to the dismay of the guests. As they circled the room together, Maria noted that she was getting a much warmer reception than before, and Georg translated many compliments on her singing. Of course, not everyone seemed to be happy with her success—Lady Whitehead looked positively furious and Lady Helen's eyes were also narrowed at Maria as she stood next to Nicholas. Maria sighed, for it seemed that no matter what she did, someone would inevitably disapprove.
Twenty minutes later, one of the woman Maria was talking to—who spoke remarkably good German—gasped slightly. "Oh, she is simply adorable! She looks like a little angel." With a slight sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, Maria turned her gaze in the direction the woman was looking to see Marta standing in the doorway of the room, her white nightgown indeed giving her an almost angelic appearance. She looked around the room, wide-eyed, before her eyes finally fell on Georg. Immediately, she rushed into the room, throwing herself at her father who caught her, lifting her automatically to his shoulder.
"Marta? What is going on?" he questioned, his hand rubbing soothing circles on her back as she buried her face in his shoulder. "I thought we talked about this. You were to stay up with Nanny tonight."
She shook her head against his jacket. "The monsters are coming. I want Papa." One of the women with whom they had been speaking sighed, placing a hand over her heart.
"Marta, darling, Papa is busy right now. You were going to stay with Nanny."
"I don't like Nanny." Though shy, Marta possessed the refreshing honesty of a three-year-old and was not afraid to express her opinions to those she trusted. Her father was at the top of that list.
Georg tried a different tactic. "Marta, monsters are not real. Remember? We talked about how they stay in your books."
"They are too real!" Georg seemed a bit at a loss of how to proceed and glanced at Maria pleadingly. Before she could say anything, however, she heard new voices.
"Father, Marta left the room when she wasn't supposed to! We saw her go past the door!" Looking over, Maria saw that Kurt and Friedrich had joined them as well, both staring interestedly around the ballroom. Maria heard the murmurs around her at their appearance. Most seemed amused, but Maria was sure that a few—particularly Lady Whitehead—would not be pleased at the children's interruption. Quickly, she excused herself from the conversation so she could escort the children upstairs. She reached out to take Marta from Georg, but the small girl simply tightened her arms around her father.
"I've got her," Georg whispered before turning a stern gaze to his sons. "Kurt, Friedrich, you know you were not supposed to leave your room."
Rebekah said something in English, and Friedrich shot her a charming smile. "Yes, Father, we're just concerned for Marta," he remarked in German. "Surely you won't punish us for that!" Georg turned a dark gaze to Rebekah, and Maria had to admit, the woman seemed hopelessly naive when it came to children if she had suggested the boys were motivated only by concern. Kurt and Friedrich could be quite devious when they wanted. They had wanted to join the party, and Marta's nightmares had proved a convenient excuse to do just that. Maria would not have been surprised to learn that they had purposefully told her stories of monsters before she fell asleep to ensure the nightmares would come.
"I will decide how to deal with my own children, thank you," Georg told Rebekah coolly, speaking German. Maria was not sure how much German Rebekah understood, but she knew enough to catch the general idea in Georg's comment. She blushed.
"I, for one, feel that your children could use a good deal more discipline," John Whitehead remarked, one of the first times Maria had heard him speak. He was staring at Georg, his eyes blazing as he continued. "I have always believed that you and Agathe were much too soft on all of them. What they needed was a good whipping to keep them in line. I could never believe that as a Navy commander, you would allow them to behave as you did without consequences. Perhaps that is why Austria no longer has a navy."
Maria could see Georg struggling with his temper. His eyes flicked to his sons, both of whom were staring at their grandfather with expressions of hatred Maria would not have expected to see on such young faces, and then to Marta who was cowering in his arms, seeming to have realized that not all monsters lived in fairy tales after all. He finally turned his thunderous gaze to his father-in-law, stepping closer. "If you or anyone else lays a hand on any one of my children, you will live to regret it," he growled, emphasizing each word. The tension hung in the air, so thick it was stifling. Maria knew she should do something to ease it, but she could not think of a single thing that might help.
"Father, we saw Kurt and Friedrich come down to the party. Why do they get to attend if we cannot?" Liesl's voice suddenly remarked, and Maria looked to the door to see the last four children standing there, Gretl in Louisa's arms. As soon as she spoke, however, Liesl seemed to realize they had walked into an unexpected situation, and she trailed off at the end of her sentence. Georg did not even acknowledge the presence of his daughters, his attention still focused solely on the earl.
"I knew you were trouble from the beginning," Lord Whitehead hissed. "I warned Agathe away from you, but she was insistent. The one time she defied me, and look what it got her. Years spent bearing your children until it killed her. And then you come along with her." Here, he nodded to Maria who stood perfectly still, unsure what to do. "I can certainly see the appeal. Fresh, beautiful,alluringly innocent. Tell me, how long will she spend as your brood mare before you kill her, too?" A low growl tore from Georg's throat, and Maria saw his hand flexing on Marta's back. She was fairly certain it was only his daughter in his arms that was stopping Georg from launching himself at the other man. The Earl seemed to know it, too, and a faint, mocking smile appeared on his lips. John Whitehead obviously knew his son-in-law well enough to know exactly which wounds still pained him and how to prod those wounds to cause the most agony. Maria wondered what he hoped to gain from that agony.
"Father?" Liesl asked, and Georg finally tore his gaze from John Whitehead to glance her way. He took in the frightened expressions of his daughters and the somewhat murderous but still worried expressions of his sons. Maria watched as his face cleared a bit, and he turned back to his father-in-law.
"That," he said simply. "That is what she gained, what we both gained. Seven beautiful children. And I am sure if you were able to ask her, she would tell you it was worth it." With that, he swept from the room, and Maria quickly followed, ushering the children out as well. She found him already halfway up the stairs, his feet pounding on each step as he ascended. By the time Maria reached the nursery, he had already deposited Marta back on her bed and was nearly out the door. "I need you to put them to bed," he told her, a tinge of desperation in his voice. "Please."
Maria's eyes flicked back down the stairs. "Georg, I don't know if it's the best idea-"
He gave a humorless laugh. "It's a horrible idea, Maria, which is why I am not going back down there. I just can't be here right now either. I don't want them to see me like this." She took in his appearance, from the slightly crazed look in his eyes to the way his jaw was still clenched with anger, and nodded. Immediately, he turned, sweeping down the hallway, leaving Maria to push her own fears of what he might do aside in order to comfort the children.
A/N: So if you are reading this as I publish the chapters, you may have noted when I first published an earlier chapter (16, I think?), I mentioned Maria had never gone to an opera before which is obviously inconsistent with this chapter. If you are reading this all at once, you are probably confused right now since I fixed that inconsistency by mentioning she had never gone to a professional opera. My kids have been a bit obsessed with The Magic Flute recently (so much so that when a friend suggested they be princes and princesses, one of my daughters immediately turned to her brother and told him, "You be Prince Tamino"), and since I like to take inspiration from what's going on in life, I had the idea for Maria to sing the Queen of the Night's famous aria. But the first full recording of The Magic Flute wasn't until 1936 (ironically at the Salzburg Festival which does give me a variety of one-shot ideas) so Maria would either have needed to learn it all from music alone or somehow seen an opera.